I love carnations, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell you why. Not because I don’t want to tell you; just because I don’t really understand the reason.
There’s just something about them. They’re colourful and soft; they have only a slight scent, one that doesn’t overpower your senses when you walk in the room; and I have such good memories of them.
From the time I was about five years old until I was in Grade 11, I was a dancer. Not a serious one, but I enjoyed it enough that I practiced both jazz and baton regularly through the dance club in my hometown. We weren’t an overly competitive club; we usually only attended two or three competitions each year, in addition to our year-end recital.
And for some reason, we were always given carnations. Whether that’s because carnations have some association with dance or because they just happened to be the least expensive option, I don’t know. But I appreciated them either way.
To be honest, I don’t remember if we received one at every competition and at every recital, but I remember getting plenty of them throughout the years. Each dancer would be given a single flower in the colour of their choosing. Like the carnations in these pictures, many of them would have light petals tipped in a bold colour–red, blue, pink, and yellow stand out most prominently in my mind.
When I saw these purplish-pink ones at the grocery store earlier in the week, I knew I needed to take them home with me. They had such pretty colouring, and they made me smile.
And, really, is there any better reason to take home a small bouquet of flowers?